


The Spoken Truth

by muse51



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 07:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse51/pseuds/muse51
Summary: At loose ends after the war, Dumbledore finds a new project - writing his autobiography. Using a clever if devious method, he learns something about Professor McGonagall. Will he dare to believe? What does he do with this information? Read on and find out.





	1. Finding Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> Get cozy. Have a cup of tea on hand. Enjoy a fluffy story.
> 
> This was written way back in 2004 making it very much non-canon. Here is the polished, final version. Happy Reading!

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office staring into the fire late one evening. Though nearly midnight, sleep was not forthcoming. His cocoa sat cooling on a table next to him. Fawkes slept soundly upon his perch. None of the portraits were in a talkative mood. His various gadgets and instruments sat mute, unused. Dumbledore this night felt a new affinity for his instruments for he too found himself without purpose.

The second war had been won the year before. The new Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones, was both capable and assertive. The Wizengamot had had a radical purge thinning its ranks of the corrupt and ineffective. There were new committees and research groups; a dozen new initiatives in the planning stages led by the deputy minister of magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. Thus reinvigorated, they had turned their attentions to improving the wizarding world; a world that had sloughed off the tensions, despair and uncertainty wrought by Voldemort now ripe for change and good leadership. It was, indeed, a new world full of optimism and hope.

With every passing day, Albus noticed that he was receiving fewer owl letters asking for advice, guidance and instruction. At first he had been relieved and joyful as he saw the opportunity to devote more time to Hogwarts. But, even in Hogwarts, he had little to occupy himself with. Between the house elves, the staff and his deputy's organizational genius, the school functioned smoothly without needing much day to day interference from him. His deputy, Minerva Mcgonagall had used the tactful term "unnecessary meddling" but it still came down to undesired interference on his part.

He had then thought to resume his research endeavors once more but that idea had been short lived. Age had given him knowledge but took away the temperament and stamina needed for research work. He became bored and distracted far too quickly. Academia would not be seeing a new paper from him anytime soon.

Was it any wonder then that Dumbledore, long used to being the center of the wizarding world, found himself feeling disconnected from the rest of the world, even slightly unwanted? What does a man do after he's done everything that a man could be asked to do? He was very much alone and at loose ends, professionally and personally speaking.

Dumbledore sighed long and loudly. He rose and left his office. Perhaps a walk about the castle would tire him enough to sleep and end the endlessly looping thoughts in his head.

He found himself in the corridor of the faculty quarters. He heard a loud bang from Professor Flitwick's quarters. Knowing the charm professor's penchant for late hours, Albus decided to knock on the door.

The door opened almost immediately. Further into the room but in direct sight of the door, Filius Flitwick called out. "Oh, Albus, it's you."

"I heard a loud bang. Everything all right in here?"

Flitwick motioned to the boxes and piles of books around him. "Just sorting through books. I never knew I had so many." He placed his hands on his back and stretched. "Come in and join me for some tea will you. I think I've done enough sorting for the night."

A few minutes later they sat companionably in two wingback chairs by the fireplace. Flitwick made encouraging noises and comments eventually drawing out Albus' real concerns and the litany of things he had been doing to fill his time. Flitwick knew Albus to be the epitome of the great, inspiring leader. Unfortunately, such leaders were at their greatest when the need for them was at its zenith. The need gives the leader purpose. When that need went away, the leader is still the same leader but with no purpose. He is left to aimlessly wait for the next need to come about. While waiting, such leaders had a tendency to drive those around them to distraction.

"Albus, why must you feel that you have to do something?" ask Filius.

"I have never been one to lay about, Filius."

"I meant why not wait, just wait."

"Wait? For what?"

"Opportunity, Albus, opportunity," Filius smiled at his friend's confusion. "Let your mind and body rest. Take a long leisurely look around you. Leave yourself open to possibilities. Possibilities only possible because you are not engrossed in some other crusade.”

"Hmmm." Dumbledore sipped his tea.

Flitwick saw the flicker of interest in the headmaster's eyes. He pressed on. "Waiting does not imply indolence. You may think of new projects or tasks that you have not done before. Think outside of the ordinariness of your own habits and thoughts."

"True, certain habits are quite ingrained. But I am a man of habit, Filius. I have grown accustomed to my comforts. Are you asking me to deprive myself of them? What would be the point?"

"Comfort and, to a lesser extent, convenience are all good but they do breed complacency." Flitwick looked his friend straight. "Everything you have said tells me that you are looking for a challenge. There are no more wars, no dark lords to confront. The only challenge left is inside of you."

"You are suggesting I reinvent myself.” Dumbledore laughed. "What shall I strive to be next, eh? A world explorer, perhaps."

Flitwick chuckled. "Traveling about the world I hesitate to think of what mischief you could come to."

"Fifty years ago such an adventure would have been appealing but now I can hear my tired bones protesting the mere contemplation of such an action," Albus admitted. "I do not see myself leaving my ease here in order to sleep in foreign lands and times."

"I am not suggesting that you do. Wait and see, Albus. Use some of the patience on yourself that you have counseled upon others.” Flitwick poured more tea into their cups. "I am certain something will arise to capture your attention. You need only wait for that something to come to you."

"I see the merit of your advice, but I don't know what I shall do to fill the time."

"No school administrative business?"

"Minerva is at least a quarter ahead of most required business."

"Only a quarter?" The two men laughed knowing that Minerva was more likely a half year ahead. "I have it! I have just the thing."

Dumbledore prodded. "And that would be?"

"Write your story, Albus. There is no better time and no better person to do it but you. Think of it, the autobiography of Albus Dumbledore published for the world."

Dumbledore was silent for a time seriously considering the idea. "I could finally tell the truth and set things straight that have long been shrouded in secrecy. Perhaps reveal a few secrets in the doing now that it is safe to do so.”

"Yes, Albus, you can and you must."

"But how ... where should I start? Do I start with my early life or with the war? In what style should I write? I want it to be entertaining as well as factual." Albus rubbed his hands together. His eyes were now lit with excitement and earnest thought.

Flitwick was pleased with himself. In mid motion to pick up his teacup, a twinge of pain in his back reminded him of the late hour. "Albus, may we continue this discussion in the morning? It is past midnight and I-"

"Of course, Filius, you have classes in the morning. I've kept you up too long," Dumbledore stood up and made his way to the door. "Thank you, old friend, for giving me much to think about."

* * *

The next few weeks were unremarkable save for the absence of the headmaster. Other than breakfast he was hardly ever seen. In fact, he was rarely even physically at the castle. When he returned he was always visibly tired yet his eyes were alert and merry. Speculation was rife among staff and faculty as to what their headmaster's new interest could be - some unknown enemy, a woman, a research project, a new job or maybe two women.

The staff debates became so heated that Professor McGonagall could no longer tolerate the volume or variety of rumor and innuendo. She decided to act.

Just after dinner, she marched to the headmaster's office. She knocked and heard a cheery "Come in!"

She looked about the room for any sign of anything out of the ordinary, any hint of his current preoccupation. She found none. "Good evening, Albus."

"Minerva, what brings you here?" Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Did I forget an appointment?"

"No, you did not.” Minerva took a deep breath and composed herself. "Albus, I am here on behalf of the staff."

"Do have a seat, please," Albus closed several books open on his desk. He adjusted his spectacles and looked as attentive as he could. "Now, what is this all about?"

Minerva sat down in her favorite chair. She nervously smoothed down her robes. "Before I tell you, please understand that we ... that is, I, have no wish to pry into your private affairs, none at all. I will understand if you do not wish to answer my ... our questions."

"After all this time, we have very few secrets between us. What is weighing on your mind?"

"Your absence from the castle is giving rise to rumors. You've missed meals, staff meetings and the students no longer see you in the halls." Minerva looked down on her hands folded on her lap. "They come to me to ask where you are. I have nothing to say. I, of all people, should know your general whereabouts and activities. Where have you been disappearing to, Albus?"

A small smile played upon Dumbledore's lips. "What are they saying about me?"

Minerva straightened. "I cannot repeat many of the rumors. Suffice it to say everything from an increased, er, social life to a new enemy out in the wilds has been mentioned."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow at her. "What did you think I was doing?"

"I just assumed that you were ... were away ... to ... be with ... see to ... personal matters," Minerva replied. "Is that so?"

"The matter is highly personal to me, very much so,” Albus said firmly.

"Very personal then."

Albus nodded. "It has required a surprisingly substantial investment of time and effort on my behalf."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Do you expect this ... this involvement to continue? Is it serious?"

"Oh, very," Dumbledore was thoughtful. He knew that involvement was one of Minerva's euphemisms for romantic attachments. "You see, Minerva, I've made a commitment."

Head down, Minerva flicked at a non-existent piece of lint on her robes. “I see. Do I know her?"

"I do not believe so."

Minerva looked up and cleared her throat before speaking. "I hope she makes you happy, Albus."

"As one who knows me well, what advice on pleasing me would you have for her?" Albus looked earnestly at his deputy. "My habits, good and bad, you know them all."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at her long time friend. _Something is not right here._ "I would say that she ought to rethink her decision, any decision, where you are concerned." She saw the barest twitch at the corners of his mouth; a sure sign of a smile barely suppressed. "Must you always tease me, Albus Dumbledore!"

"I cannot resist, Minerva, truly I cannot." Albus’ eyes shone with amusement. "You looked so serious as if the castle were about to explode.”

"I ought to collapse the walls about your ears. It is too late in the day for such foolishness." She stood up and crossed her arms. "Now, tell me true. What mischief are you up to?"

"Your lack of faith in me is touching," Albus replied.

"It stems from experience. I know how you are when you are bored and out of sorts. Now out with it."

"It's a new project of mine. It's, ah, still at the thinking stage and I've been doing research and taking many, many notes." Dumbledore held up several scrolls. "I feel quite in the academic mode again."

Minerva studied the books and scrolls littering his desk. "The staff will be disappointed."

"Would you like me to invent something more exotic? A tempestuous affair with a wood nymph? A new muggle candy I cannot live without, perhaps?"

Minerva smiled. "You would, too, invent something, wouldn't you."

"If it may help staff morale, then gladly," Albus leaned back into his chair. He found talking with Minerva relaxing. He could be himself with no thought of betrayal or miscommunication. He watched as Minerva peered at his notes. "That piece there is the Hogwarts section. My years as a professor is there to the right."

"Years?"

Dumbledore grinned. "I am writing my autobiography, Minerva. I have made a commitment with a publisher."

Minerva's eyes shone with surprise and happiness. "What a wonderful idea!"

"It was Filius' suggestion." He walked to the front of his desk to stand beside her. His right hand rose subconsciously to rest lightly on her back. With his left he pointed out the other piles of notes and things. "Over there is my alchemy research. That pile there is research on Grindelwald. And here in this empty spot will go my headmaster notes when I get to that time period."

Minerva was bewildered. Her eyes roamed over his desk. "It's so organized, all of it."

"You did not think I had it in me," Dumbledore said. "Admit it now!"

She turned her head and laughed. "Well, honestly, no."

"With the school running so efficiently and very few inquiries from the Ministry these days, I have the time to be organized. I have a very tight deadline with the publisher so I must make good progress in the time I have."

"When is your deadline?"

"The publisher would like the first draft of the overall outline in two weeks."

"Two weeks! That is very short. Can they not be reasonable?"

"I meant that it is due in two weeks. I've had a month and a half for the outline altogether. I have a year to complete the book entirely."

Minerva straightened a tall teetering pile of notes. "Do you need help?"

Albus rummaged about in his armoire. "Since you brought up the concerns of the staff, I believe it is time I explained my actions to them." He took out a small box filled with small scrolls. "Here is something that I will need your help with."

Albus placed the box on his desk careful not to shift his notes. "Each one of these scrolls has a name. Each scroll represents a person that I've had contact with through the years. I have distributed the majority of them already hence my frequent trips. The rest are for the staff here or for people in England. We have a staff meeting tomorrow and I would appreciate it if you could distribute these at the meeting."

Minerva eyed the scrolls curiously. She could feel a sense of strong magic about them. "Of course, Albus. What are they for?"

"My publisher suggested that I interview people for the book. I know quite a large number of people. I could not possibly interview all of them. I have instead devised this manner of eliciting information. Each scroll has a list of questions pertaining to any relationship or activity that I shared with the recipient of the scroll. The scroll is charmed to reveal the absolute truthful answer to every question."

Minerva swallowed. "What kind of questions, Albus?"

"Simple ones. For example, when they worked with me and on what. My memory is not what it once was. Or, how do they feel about me. Questions that were I interviewing someone about me, I would ask." Albus held out a scroll to her. "This one is yours, Minerva."

Minerva slowly let out the breath she had been holding in. She made no move to take it. Her hesitation was clear.

"It shan't bite," Dumbledore teased.

He continued to hold it out leaving her no choice but to take it. The scroll gave off a quick spark when her fingers touched it. That spark was a certain sign of a charm being activated. "Did you mean that the recipient would be compelled to answer truthfully?"

"It is more accurate to say that you could not put down a lie," Dumbledore explained. "Lies including evasions or empty flattery would be erased and possibly replaced by a clearer phrase or word closer to the recipients' intent. The charm is on the parchment not on the recipient.“

"What if the person refuses to answer?"

"They cannot refuse. Once given to the recipient, the scroll remains visible on or near the person or within that person's possessions until all the questions are answered and the recipient orders it to be sent back."

"A nuisance condition, how very inventive." The words "absolute truth" echoed repeatedly in her thoughts.

"How else can I guarantee a response. I am looking forward to responses from certain individuals." Albus smiled.

"Severus, for one, should prove very entertaining." Minerva looked helplessly at the scroll in her hand. She resisted the urge to fling it out of the nearest window. "When do you need the responses returned?"

"As soon as they are filled out I would think. I have a list here that will coordinate the responses as I receive them. I believe two weeks is sufficient time to expect a response."

"Two weeks,” Minerva said softly.

"It's not a test is it? A few minutes of time is all I ask,” Dumbledore said airily as he pulled out the scrolls for the staff.

Minerva tucked the scroll in her robe pocket. "I ... I will say good night then, Albus."

"Pleasant dreams, my dear."

Dumbledore went back to his notes as Minerva left his office. How she had managed the spiral staircase on such unsteady legs, she never knew.

* * *

The next day saw the faculty and staff in high spirits at dinner. Albus' scrolls were entertaining the recipients to no end. Albus fielded many questions from his eager colleagues.

"I tried to put down 'barmy, old codger' and do you know what it did?" Professor Hooch was heard to remark to Professor Vector. "It said back 'do you mean barmy in the good sense?' Honestly, that is what it said."

Professor Snape scowled more fearsomely than ever. His own house had borne the brunt of his foul mood losing fifty points altogether. At first, he had tried to burn and tear the scroll but to no avail. Destructive spells and potions had no effect at all. He had gone as far as burying the wretched thing in the Forbidden Forest after lunchtime. It had materialized without a speck of dirt on his desk just before dinner time. There the scroll had lain, a mockery of his every attempt.

Snape muttered under his breath, "If he thinks I am going to answer his questions, he will have a long, long wait indeed."

Hagrid had carried his scroll everywhere he went. At odd moments he would take it out and redo an answer. Students had noticed the groundskeeper dabbing at his eyes as he wrote down an answer or two.

Another staff member was equally emotional about the scroll but for entirely different reasons. Professor Minerva McGonagall ate her dinner quietly and left the hall as soon as it was polite to do so. She mentioned the scroll not at all.


	2. Secret No More

For what seemed the hundredth time in the week, Minerva unrolled the scroll laying it out flat on her desk. Most of the questions were answered except for two.

Question 1: _How do you feel about me - as a colleague, as a friend and as a person? Answer each separately._

Question 2: _If there was one thing concerning me which you have never revealed to me but wanted to, what would it be?_

Her hand shook as she wrote down an answer to the first question. Her words appeared on the parchment as "I respect and admire you greatly as a colleague." She took a deep breath before continuing. "As a friend, you have my deepest affection and .." The word 'affection' was magically crossed off and the single word 'love' was written in.

Minerva threw down the quill with some force, said the spell to remove her partial answer then covered her face with her hands. No matter what she wrote, the word love somehow found its way into her answer to both questions. Always.

Albus had not begun to ask about her scroll but it was only a matter of time. She did what she could to divert his attention. Each time she was with Albus she steered the conversation as far away from the scroll as possible. She encouraged him to go on more research trips while she looked after the school. She found areas in his notes that needed verification or correction thereby sending him scurrying off with robes flying.

Knowing Severus' own thwarted efforts to rid himself of his scroll, Minerva struggled every night to write something; anything at all that did not translate into the word love. So far, she had been singularly unsuccessful. Her desperation was growing. Something had to be done and soon.

On the last evening of the allotted two weeks, as she sat in her office pondering the scroll yet again, a solution came to her. It was really quite simple. She didn't have to write the answers at all. _If I don't write it myself, how could the scroll know what the truth was?_ She rolled up the scroll and went to see Albus in his office.

* * *

"Albus, I have a problem that I need your help on."

Behind his desk, Albus looked at her over the top of his spectacles. "I am at your service as always, my dear."

"I have been marking essays all day." Minerva sat down in her favorite chair. She made a point to slouch her shoulders and lay her head back. For effect, she lay quiet for a few seconds. "I'm simply worn out."

"You work too hard, Minerva. There is no task that cannot be put aside and done tomorrow." Dumbledore observed.

"Nothing but this," Minerva held her scroll aloft. "Your deadline is tomorrow. My hands are quite tired, Albus. Could you please write down my last answers for me?"

"I would be honored to do so. Hand it over please."

Minerva placed the scroll on his desk. "Thank you, Albus. The last week has simply been horrid."

"Tomorrow is Saturday, you shall have a lie in and rest the entire day. I shall personally look after your charges."

"Oh, could you?" Minerva rubbed her temples. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "I feel such a headache coming on."

"Think nothing of it." Albus unrolled the scroll and set his auto quill upon it. He scanned the scroll for the unanswered questions and committed them to memory. He posed the first question to Minerva.

Minerva took a moment before responding. "I respect and admire you greatly as a colleague. As a friend, you have my deepest affection, loyalty, trust and, of course friendship. As a person, I can only say that your magnetism and charm draw people around you."

Without looking at the words appearing on the scroll, Albus said, "I do not deserve such high praise, Minerva."

Minerva brought her hand to rest over her eyes. "It is only the truth, Albus."

Albus asked the next question.

She answered with "I would like to tell you that your friendship, affection and trust is something that I truly cherish in my heart."

Minerva felt a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that her dilemma was over and sadness that she had not told him the truth.

Dumbledore could not respond. Her words echoed the same sentiments in his heart. _But I would add love to that, Minerva, I would._ Dumbledore looked at her closely. He knew every nuance of expression in her face and body. Her robes seemed looser around her. _She's lost weight. Is she not taking care of herself properly?_ He rose and went to her. "Minerva?"

Her eyes opened when she felt him lifting her hand. "Yes, Albus?"

"You are exhausted from overwork. That is plain to see. Let me escort you to your quarters," Albus took her other hand and gently coaxed her to her feet despite her protests. “I will get a headache potion from Poppy and bring it to you.”

How he longed to do more for her. For some years now he had realized that his feelings for her went beyond professional regard or even deep friendship. But he could no more indicate his intentions as make the moon drop from the sky. The wistful voice of his heart whispered disturbing thoughts. _Friendship may be sufficient for now, but what will sustain you should she find comfort with someone else? Will you dance carefree at her wedding? Will you smile when she kisses another in your view?_

Albus shook his head silencing the voice within. He had no answers but to insist that he was content where he was, in the periphery of her life looking in. Looking in and nothing more.

“Continue with your work. I’ll be fine on my own,” protested Minerva.

"I insist. Besides, I am in need of some hot cocoa and your quarters are on the way to the kitchens."

Minerva acquiesced. She was tired after all and slightly depressed with the deception she had been forced to employ. She could not say, even to herself, when she had fallen for her colleague and friend. One day the feeling had taken residence in her heart and there it had stayed despite her past efforts to either rid herself of it or find a substitute. She was a realistic woman in all things. Office romances were rarely successful and often only led to shattering heartbreak. Time heals all, she repeated to herself. It must.

With a quick flick of Dumbledore's hand, the scroll rolled itself up and levitated into a box of finished responses. Together they walked through the corridors enveloped in a companionable silence; they were at ease in each other's presence with words superfluous.

* * *

A week later, Professor Snape surrendered. He had surpassed the two week grace period forcing the scroll's nuisance condition to activate. Day by day, the scroll made his life an incremental misery until he could endure it no longer..

It hovered around him just out of reach. It intruded into his lessons with sudden broadcasts from the wireless service or renditions on the virtues of punctuality and truthfulness. Finally, it started to repeat the questions and his answers (where there were any) when any person was within hearing distance. That would not have been embarrassing in and of itself, however, the scroll never forgot a word it had written. Yesterday, it began to repeat the answers previously thought erased.

The fourth year potions class was treated to Snape's confessions of seeing the headmaster as a father figure for whom he had the utmost respect and love. Yes, love, as a son for a father, the scroll clarified. The students did their best to stifle their snickers. Red-faced, Snape could take no more. He slammed the scroll on to his desk and scribbled his answers. He then went to the headmaster's office to personally deliver it.

Inside his office, the headmaster was sifting through all the finished responses. His office door opened with a bang. "Severus, do come in.”

"I have done some difficult things in my life, Albus, but this," Severus tossed the scroll on to the desk. "this is heinous! The most torturous thing I have had to endure! Ever!"

Dumbledore took his time answering back. He was well used to Snape's displays of temper. "Wish you had thought of it yourself, eh?"

"Too bloody right!" Snape huffed. "I hope you're happy. I am about to take mass quantities of points from my fourth year class of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. It will be on your head if Minerva raises a fuss."

"Of course, Severus, just send her to me." Dumbledore read over Snape's scroll. He sniffed once before looking at the potions master. "Thank you, Severus, for everything."

"It's the truth.” Snape shuffled his feet.

"I assure you that I will burn all these responses once I've read them and noted any salient, non-personal information. Will that suffice?" Albus began to lay out the remaining scrolls he had to read. Minerva's was right on top.

"They don't burn."

"They will but only for me."

Snape gritted his teeth. _The man thought of everything_. "And what of the sheer embarrassment that I have suffered because of you, I want-"

"I only gave you the opportunity for some self examination, Severus. Don't you feel better about having told me the truth?"

Snape slapped his hand on the desk. "In private, Albus, why couldn't you do it privately. I am a laughingstock!"

"If you had answered within the time period specified, you need not have had to suffer at all."

"Fine. Let us see how you like it." Snape grabbed the scroll closest to him which unbeknownst to him was Minerva's. Albus had been saving it to read once more. Severus read the first answer he saw. "I respect and admire you greatly as a colleague. As a friend, you have my deepest love, loyalty, trust and, of course, friendship."

The headmaster was stunned. "Love?"

Snape continued. "As a person, I can only say that your attractiveness and charm draw people around you."

"Attractiveness?" Snape looked at the headmaster, then at the note, then back to the headmaster. His eyes scanned the rest of the scroll. "Minerva? How very interesting for you, Albus."

Dumbledore grabbed the scroll. He read another response. " 'I would like to tell you that your love is something that I truly cherish in my heart.' That's not what she said. I know for certain that is not what she said. She said friendship and affection and trust. I wrote down exactly what she said."

"Perhaps verbally she said what she did say but she meant love. In her secret heart, she's in love with you," Snape said smugly.

"These scrolls are designed to tell the truth." Dumbledore still refused to believe the obvious. "Whatever is truly in the recipient's heart and no other."

"And they have, headmaster." The smirk on Snape's face seemed almost permanent. "Someone is in love with you. A further question comes to mind, how do you feel about her?"

No immediate denial came from the older man. His attention was captured by the scroll still. "There must be something wrong with the veracity spell. We are close certainly but … but not …”

After promising not to mention anything to Minerva on pain of Albus' retribution, Snape left the shocked but clearly delighted headmaster purposefully double checking the various charms inlaid into the scrolls. Some truths after all are too near to one's heart to be taken lightly. One had to be sure before any action could be contemplated.

Snape strode to his dungeons with a lively spring to his steps. He was still going to deduct points but he was going to feel so much better about it. _Life is good._


	3. Persistence Pays

Two months later, the publishing house, Gutenberg Wizarding Press, announced the impending publication of the autobiography of none other than Albus Dumbledore. A thrilling excerpt of the duel against Grindelwald printed in the Prophet fed the growing hunger for the book. Flourish and Blotts had to hire extra staff just to handle the advanced copy requests for the book. The gates of Hogwarts were besieged by media requesting interviews or more snippets from the book.

Having been included in the excerpt, in very glowing terms no less, Minerva found herself in demand for interviews and commentary. It was not a situation much to her liking. At tea one Saturday, she groused and complained in a manner that Albus thought amusing and endearing.

"But why did you have to include me in that excerpt? I wasn't there for the final battle and-"

"My dear, your intelligence work was crucial to the war effort."

"My work was and is classified as you well know."

Dumbledore put his tea cup down. "Were you not notified that the Ministry had recently declassified that material? I requested it in fact as part of my research."

Minerva was plainly horrified. "You don't mean that!"

"Your experiences in the field during that time has been the basis of decades of field work training for both Aurors and Unspeakables. It is about time that people became aware of your contributions."

"Albus, some of the things I did, I am far from proud of. They were not ... not things that I was raised to ... to do or to be."

Albus took one of her hands in his. "You did extraordinary things, Minerva. You made decisions that saved many, many lives, mine included."

Minerva looked down at her hand engulfed in his. "We all did what had to be done. I simply did my part."

"That may be but I am certain that without your help, I could not have been in the right place at the right time to face Grindelwald. I discovered in my research that I never thanked you properly." Albus brought her hand to his lips. He bent to brush his lips against her soft skin before placing a kiss upon it. He looked up to see her wide open eyes watching him. "Thank you, Minerva."

Her throat constricted by emotions she dared not acknowledge in his presence, Minerva could only nod.

"Well, I hope that is that.” Dumbledore rose to his feet still holding her hand. "I have a few things to attend to."

"Yes, as do I," Minerva replied grateful for any excuse to leave Albus' disturbing presence. Ever since answering the scroll, Minerva had found her emotions bubbling to the surface far more often than she cared for.

"You won't forget about dinner will you, Minerva? You know how I look forward to our Saturday dinner engagements. It helps take my mind off my book. They are a much welcome reprieve." He took her hand as she rose from her chair.

"That depends. Where are we dining tonight?"

Albus kissed her hand once more before letting it go. "You said last week that you wanted to try something continental. So tonight it shall be Georges in Amsterdam."

"Georges, I have not been there in ages. I shall be in the front hall at eight sharp." Minerva turned and left unaware of the eyes that followed in her wake.

* * *

Four months later, Minerva found herself in the headmaster's office meeting a young woman of thirty with a pleasant face and even disposition. Her name was Alicia Cornwell.

"Now, Alicia, I'm sure you're eager to start with your new duties," Albus began. "Your office is ready and waiting."

"I am more than ready, sir. My family couldn't believe it when I told them I was the new personal assistant to Minerva McGonagall." Alicia did not lack for youthful enthusiasm. "Imagine me! I never thought to actually be working here."

"You are highly qualified, Alicia. Professor McGonagall, as my exceptional deputy, deserves the best."

Minerva liked Alicia very much. For Alicia's sake, she refrained from rolling her eyes heavenward.

Yet another excerpt had been printed in the Prophet. This time it had been about Dumbledore's early years as headmaster. Too late Minerva discovered that he had included her work on modernizing the castle from its interior architecture to its accounting system.

She had been most vexed with him. Besides a doubling of interview requests, she was now having to deal with agents asking to represent her in publishing her own series of management books. It was all too much to bear. Now with Alicia's hiring, Minerva was more than ready to give Albus a piece of her mind. Minerva summoned a house elf.

When the elf appeared, Minerva said, "Dobby, please show Ms. Cornwell to her new office. It's the new one by mine. Alicia, let's consider today as your settling in day. Go ahead and set your office to your comfort and organization. I shall get you at lunch and after afterwards we shall tour the castle. All right?"

Alicia nodded and followed Dobby out. Her head swiveled from left to right trying to take in all she saw and heard.

Minerva waited until the door had clicked shut. Seeing the glint of determined intent in his deputy's eyes, Albus braced himself.

She stared at him silently for a time much as a cat would study a cornered mouse. Albus waited her out. Still not saying a word, she sat on one edge of his desk. Her regard was steady and unrelenting. Albus swallowed finding it difficult to maintain a neutral expression or to avoid shrinking into his chair.

She leaned slightly towards him. She whispered one word. "Why?"

The cat wants to play, he thought. _Well, so do I_. "Isn't it obvious?"

Minerva traced lazy circles on his desk as she replied, “Not to me. Tell me why do you persist?"

With her gaze downward, she did not notice Albus' eyes roaming, lovingly, along her form. His eyes lingered on Minerva's elegant curve of neck and her striking profile. She was not a stunning beauty but she fascinated him more than any other. "Me? Persist in what, my dear?"

"You persist in disordering my life without my knowledge." Minerva said her next words carefully and with emphasis locking eyes with her friend and superior. "I do not like it."

"Yet, you continually impose order upon chaos. You are driven to do so."

"I am your deputy. The well-ordered running of this institution is my responsibility. Everything and everyone at Hogwarts is my responsibility."

"And you are mine," Albus said simply.

Albus' words took the wind out her sails. His concern and regard shone clearly from his eyes. She walked over to the window and stared out at the lake. Nothing was said between them as they, from long practice, let their argument pass.

She felt him him approach her. He said, "You are taking me to task for seeing to the welfare of someone who has always thought of others more than of herself. Someone has to look after you, why won't you let me?"

"Whether I let you or not, you do it anyway.”

"Is it so disagreeable to you?" Albus leaned in a little, invading her space. "Tell me so I may make adjustments to regain your favor."

Minerva did not answer. The tension caused by their argument seeped out of her body. Inwardly, she yearned to turn around, wrap her arms about his neck, look into his eyes and tell him the truth. In the past few months their friendship had progressed past the familiarity imbued by years of acquaintance to a fledgling sense of the other; she dared not call it intimacy except in the privacy of her heart. She had discovered more and more to love and admire about this man.

Albus pressed closer to her. Softly, for her ears alone, he said, "I am trying, in my inadequate way, to apologize for my seemingly high-handed ways, Minerva. I should have told you about the excerpt. I may be the head of Hogwarts but you are its heart. People need to know that."

Minerva clenched her fists by her side. If not, she would have flung her arms around him then and there. "You should have told me. I was unprepared for the ... the onslaught."

"I am sorry for that. As to the other matter, with my book, I have not been as much of a help to you. I had thought that Alicia would allow you to remove yourself from the more tedious duties of administration." Knowing that their argument was over, Albus teased her. "What can I do to earn your forgiveness, oh deputy of mine?"

Minerva turned around. She gasped at realizing how close they stood. Her hand landed on his chest. "You can start by promising to never surprise me like that again."

Before he lost his nerve, Albus bent down and kissed her on the cheek. He said softly close to her ear, “I promise, Minerva."

Minerva stood immobile. Her body felt cold, numb except for the burning spot on her cheek where he had kissed her. It was a kiss between friends. Do not make more of it than that, she admonished herself. Trying to regain her equilibrium, she resorted to teasing him in return. "See that you do, Albus, because I may not be so forgiving next time. Now, if you will excuse, I need to check on Alicia."

Once Minerva had departed, Albus turned to Fawkes and said, "She is a proud, independent woman and I have to tread carefully. Filius had said I needed a challenge. She is certainly that. But we are making progress in the wooing, Fawkes, progress."


	4. Speak of Love

The owl swooped through the open windows lowering itself gracefully in front of the headmaster at breakfast. It held its leg out. Albus recognized the owl, Erato, owned by the publishing house. Albus gave the owl a long strip of bacon. The message must have been brief for he paid it only a slight glance. As the owl flew out, the headmaster turned to his deputy.

"Minerva, I would like to inform you that another excerpt will be appearing in the afternoon edition of the Prophet."

"What is the topic this time? Do I need to prepare myself?"

"It concerns an area of my life that by comparison to the rest is little known." Dumbledore poured another cup of tea for both himself and Minerva. "With the publication date so close to hand, my publisher felt that it was a good time to release another excerpt."

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him. "And I am not mentioned at all?"

"I did say that you would not have anything more to worry about, did I not?" Dumbledore smiled shyly at her. "Be assured that your name does not appear within the excerpt."

"Thank you for informing me, Albus." She smiled back. "Consider your previous offense forgiven."

Albus buttered his toast. "Will you be ready to leave for the Australian conference as planned?"

"We leave at eleven do we not?"

"Yes. Our plane leaves at 12:30." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Perhaps we can play chess to while away the hours of the trip."

Minerva looked beyond Albus to the charms professor seated to his left. "Filius, as we are leaving before noon, you are nominally the deputy headmaster as of right now. I have left a list of issues that may arise with Alicia."

Filius nodded encouragingly. "Do not worry, Minerva. Alicia and I will be fine."

"Don't forget Fawkes! He’s close to his burning day,” said Minerva.

"He will be showered with attention so Filius assures me." Albus winked at the head of Ravenclaw.

Minerva clucked under her breath. "Oh, Albus, are you sure you have settled any lingering matters with the Ministry? Owl traffic will be very delayed, if at all."

Dumbledore patted her hand. "I issued written and verbal instructions yesterday. They are aware that they disturb me at their peril."

Minerva turned her attention to her assistant seated at her right. "Alicia, do not forget that the annual inventory is in two months. It is never too early to begin preparing our plan of attack. There are a great many things to catalog from linens to portraits. I suggest that while I am away you use the time to familiarize yourself with last year's plan."

"Already done, professor."

"Familiarized yourself with last year's plan? Very good. That will save a great deal of time."

"No, professor, I meant the plan for this year," Alicia answered. "I put it on your desk before I came here. And I thought of a possible way to have the portraits help with the inventory."

Minerva gaped at the young woman. She blinked a few times. "I applaud your initiative."

Albus beamed happily. "We should not be surprised. The chancellor at Glastonbury Academy did give me a glowing recommendation for Alicia."

Alicia blushed. "Professor McGonagall is an excellent teacher and her management system is flawless."

Filius piped in, "So, Minerva, go to the conference and enjoy it. We have things well in hand here."

"It will be a nice change I suppose," Minerva said. She was still of two minds about both she and Albus being absent in the middle of term.

"We seldom have opportunities to attend professional conferences. I for one am determined to enjoy it. I am equally determined to see to it that you do the same." Albus rose out of his chair. "Filius, I have a few last minute items to discuss with you. Please follow me to my office."

* * *

The afternoon edition of any newspaper seldom has the same importance as its first or last edition. The afternoon edition of the Daily Prophet carrying the new excerpt proved an exception. From noon onward, the excerpt was the topic of many conversations in homes, offices and stores throughout Britain. The rejuvenated Wizengamot was hard pressed to continue with normal business when one of its members brought the news to their collective attention. It contained, as the publisher had predicted, the most interesting and surprising fact about Albus Dumbledore.

The staff and students at Hogwarts were not immune. The noon meal at the school was unusual in the absence of both the headmaster and the deputy headmistress. It was also unusual because students drifted from house table to house table discussing the excerpt, house rivalries temporarily forgotten.. The faculty speculated throughout the meal.

Poppy folded the paper after her third reading. "Well, we all know who it is, don't we?"

"The question is not who but what. What will Minerva's reaction be once she sees this?" Snape asked the group at large.

"We're all assuming that it's her he's referring to. What if it's not so?" Vector asked. He was immediately pelted with a variety of bread rolls from various directions.

"Don't be daft, Vector!" cried Hooch. "Our intrepid headmaster has been wooing our elegant if oblivious deputy for months now."

"I don't believe she is as oblivious as she makes herself out to be, Hooch," Poppy responded. "She is no green maid after all."

"Really?!" The flying instructor's eyes glittered. "She's been deliberately making him work for it?"

"Perhaps. They have been doing more things together in the last few months. I am saying nothing more than that. It is their business and we should stay out of it,” Poppy replied. "Well out of it."

Alicia sniffed and dabbed her eyes. "I think it's the height of romance. It's beautiful."

Alicia began to read softly to herself. She read a small part of the full excerpt with such sincerity and warmth that the hall quieted down to hear.

_It is often said of me that I am fearless. I am flattered and must inform you that that is a lie. All my life, every hour, every second, I have been afraid. I have not been afraid for myself but afraid for that being whom I would one day choose to hold dearer than my own heart, more vital to me than my own breath. I speak of a life companion - a wife, a lover, a friend. I have always been afraid that if ever I met that companion that I would do irreparable harm to her. Me, not my enemies, but me, and by my own hand, with my own words._

_But someone made me realize through the simple gifts of friendship, loyalty and trust that such a personal fear can be overcome through patience, humor and acceptance. She showed me that a fear shared is a fear no more. In time, fear is replaced by that most powerful essence and expression in our lives. I speak of love._


	5. Getting Closer

From the airport, Albus and Minerva headed straight off to the conference. They participated in panel discussions as well as met with fellow Transfiguration masters from all over the world. Now, close on nine o'clock in the evening, elated but exhausted, they made their way to their wizarding hotel along with other wizards and witches staying at the same place.

The night clerk stammered through his greeting. "Ah, yes, madam, your reservation is all in order. Your suite is just up the stairs there. Room 415."

Minerva arched her brow. "One suite?"

"Yes, madam with one bedroom, a bath and a sitting room," said the clerk. He placed the key on the counter.

Minerva drew herself to her full height, jutted her chin out and said. "I had thought that arrangements had been made for two suites not one. And though our arrangements were made rather hastily I can assure you they were done correctly."

The clerk gulped. "Well, madam, the original booking was for two rooms. However, only one of those rooms was guaranteed against a late arrival. We are a full hotel, madam, so the one room as it was not guaranteed was let to another patron."

Minerva looked around for Albus. She spotted him in the lobby conversing with a delegate from Japan. She and Albus had come to a personal understanding in the last month. Their dinners out had gradually changed to romantic dates. But even so, she was not ready for anything more serious than passionate good night kisses at her chamber door. Well, nothing moreuntil she knew exactly where she stood with Albus. She dared not assume anything where he was concerned. Their dates were fun and distracting. For the moment, it amused him to squire her around. That could change with the wind.

She leaned over the counter and said softly but firmly, "Very well, I understand. Now register me into a new room, if you please."

The clerk shook his head. "I'm very sorry, madam. As I said, we are quite full. There are no suites available."

Irritated and tired, Minerva snapped, her Scottish brogue very pronounced, "Any room will do, lad. Be quick about it."

The clerk scanned his registry once more. "Madam, there are no rooms of any kind available." The clerk noticed Albus heading towards the counter and recognized him. His glance went to Minerva. He quickly arrived at the nature of the situation.

Minerva had also noticed Albus' approach. She hissed. "You must have a room, perhaps at another hotel."

"Madam, the suite is quite spacious and the sofa in the sitting room is large and comfortable." The clerk added. "If there are any available rooms tomorrow, I will certainly reserve one for you, madam."

"Do so." Minerva did not add anything else to her reply not wanting Albus to overhear.

"It was a very good idea to attend the conference but I am ready for bed, Minerva." Albus announced upon reaching her side. In his arms he carried his and Minerva's bags. "Young man, can you please see to having a cup of cocoa delivered to my room?"

"It would be my pleasure, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled. "Wonderful. Let's go to our rooms then."

The clerk bowed his head to hide his amusement. Minerva, unable to bear further embarrassment, grabbed the lone key and led Albus away at a fast clip.

It transpired that Albus had no objections whatsoever to sharing the room. Gallantly, he gave Minerva the bedroom while he transfigured the sofa into a small bed.

"I've been promised the first room available tomorrow. You need only bear with me tonight,” Minerva said putting some pillows on the transfigured sofa.

"I wouldn't mind sharing the room the entire time we're here, my dear."

"You may not have the same opinion in the morning," Minerva held out one end of a bed sheet to him. "I can be a bear sometimes."

Grabbing the other end, Albus stretched the sheet over his makeshift accommodations. "I am quite sure that I would not mind seeing you as you are, fresh from sleep."

Minerva tucked the last corner. "Bags under my eyes, my hair a mess. Just the sight to start your day."

Albus walked closer to her. He arms slid around her waist. Though he made no move to pull her hard against him, still he felt the pounding of her heart. "That may be but you would be MY mess."

His lips found the exact point where her pulse beat on her throat. "May I have my good night kiss now?"

In answer, she cupped his face with her hands and touched her lips to his. His tongue dashed forward, nudging, until her lips parted. His tongue darted and traced, feeling the contours of her mouth, tasting her essence. Albus thought he knew what a kiss was, what it felt like. But this kiss with this woman was a kiss.

Albus broke the kiss before his limit was reached. He embraced her hard once then let her go. "Sleep well, Minerva."

Exhausted from their non-stop day both fell into a sound sleep as soon has their heads hit their pillows.


	6. Sleeping Lions

It is said that the male of the species knows nothing of the true nature of the female of the species unless a male had actually lived in a female's space for a measure of time. However, even the most fatheaded of males can glean some knowledge of the female psyche by close observation and attention to detail. If said male was sufficiently charming and patient, the object female would be of good humour and welcoming of his presence. Otherwise, the female would just as likely introduce him to the sharpness of her tongue and seek to enlighten him as to the universal meaning of the phrase "I am woman." It happened so to Albus Dumbledore the following day.

Albus lay curled on his side snoring lightly. Deep in slumber, he took no notice of the curtains of the sitting room being opened wide nor heard Minerva moving about. Minerva shook him awake. He murmured, "Too early, mother." There came another shake and a voice calling his name.

"Albus, wake up," Minerva prodded.

"Mmmm, ten more minutes. Be good today ... promise," mumbled Albus.

Minerva looked at the watch on the mantelpiece. They were going to be late at the panel they were to speak at - "Aspects of Transfiguration in Education." It would be rude, unprofessional and hardly flattering for them both to be tardy, or worse, absent. She nudged the sleeper on the shoulder but still Albus slept. _Strange, he's not usually such a sound sleeper._ "Albus! Wake up! Wake up, now!"

Albus turned over on his side. He burrowed deeper under his blanket.

Minerva brandished her wand. "This will be worse for me than for you, believe me." She flicked and swished. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

She levitated the headmaster out of bed. His blanket slid off more and more parts of his body the higher he was lifted. Feeling the sudden draftiness, Albus' hands unconsciously felt about for his blanket. For propriety's sake, Minerva charmed his purple nightshirt to stay secure about his body. Once the blanket was lost, Minerva flicked her wand and Albus began to turn vertical. Shortly, upended in mid-air, Albus finally awoke cold, disoriented with a face full of his own beard.

"Wha - uh, phish ... whaz ... what is this?" Handful by handful, still upside down, Albus hauled up his heavy beard until his vision was clear. He found his view captured by two tiny lions' heads growling ferociously up at him. He blinked to clear his vision but the lions remained in sight. His realized he was looking at Minerva's slippers. His eyes swept up the rest of her nighttime attire - slippers, a long night robe of maroon and was that a piece of cream lace peeking through? He had little time to speculate as he became fully aware of his predicament and the blood rushing downward. A heady feeling it was.

"Now that I have your attention, Albus, I suggest you-"

"Was it truly necessary to resort to this?" Still upside down with one hand manhandling his beard aside and the other gesturing at his position, Albus was far from the image of a dignified man.

"I tried several times to wake you. You proved a sound sleeper."

"Did you give a thought to what a position like this could do to a man of my age?"

"You are as far from old and doddering as I am. You will not get any sympathy from me." With another swish of her wand, Albus began to turn upright and then descend. "We have our panel in an hour and half."

Albus' feet touched the ground while flashes of stars danced around his head. He closed his eyes for a few minutes to let the dizziness pass. "I may, just may, have recovered by then."

"I've ordered breakfast. That should improve your disposition." Minerva looked him over. He looked fine to her. "I always thought you to be a light sleeper."

“Perhaps because I could smell your scent through the night, I found myself in a very good dream." Albus stepped towards her. “About you ... and me."

Minerva felt the signs - the rise in temperature, the quickening of breath, the tendrils of awareness coiling inside her. That awareness had grown in the last few weeks pushing aside her doubts and fears; attraction overshadowing their close friendship sometimes threatening to overwhelm her natural reserve. _I want more. I need to know more._ "At what point were you interrupted?"

Albus paused unsure if he had heard what he thought he had heard. "I was on a journey and I started here." Albus kissed her forehead. "I was sorely distracted by this." He ran one hand through her hair. "I found my trail once more." His other hand traced a line the length of her profile. "By some miracle I found this." He traced her lips.

Minerva got the word out, barely, "Then?"

"A cold, hard wind blew me off course," Albus chuckled. "Perhaps that was for the best."

"Unfinished trips can be unsatisfying." Minerva kissed him lightly on the lips. "For both parties."

She grasped his nightshirt pulling him to her. It didn't matter that his unbrushed beard was rough to the touch. It didn't matter that his hair stuck out in all directions. It didn't matter that he knew she had Gryffindor slippers. At that moment, nothing mattered to her but leaning into his strong, warm body and losing herself in him.

Albus deepened the kiss and wrapped her securely in his arms. They kissed. They nibbled. They tasted. As they broke apart, they both knew that they both reached an emotional and physical point of no return.

Reluctantly, Albus stepped away from her. "A private dinner tonight. We need ... need to talk. Yes?"

Forcing calm and control over the tumult of her own desires, Minerva said, "Tonight."


	7. Truths Revealed

_Pat, pat, twist, pat._ "What do you think about her, Sachi?" The matronly witch pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Who, Natasha?" asked a petite, Japanese witch peering closely at the mirror. The mirror whispered a few choice suggestions.

"Minerva McGonagall, that is who.” Natasha adjusted her hat. "Everyone is talking about her."

"A few articles in a paper and she's a celebrity." Sachi leaned in closer to the mirror. "She is not what I expected."

"Her level of power is unusual in a woman."

"I was talking about her person. She is so ... so plain." Sachi looked vainly in the mirror for any new wrinkles. She was so absorbed in her task that she did not take note of a slight thump coming from a bathroom stall behind her.

"You think so? She's more unassuming I would say and very confident."

"Well, if I had Albus Dumbledore by the nose, I would be confident, too."

"The nose? My dear, you are being polite.” Natasha giggled.

"Did you notice, during the lecture, the looks he was giving her? I swear he was panting after her and she well knew it." The two women cackled and giggled some more. So loud was their merriment that neither woman heard the agitated rustling of robes coming from the stall.

"It's obvious how he feels about her, with or without the Daily Prophet's help," Natasha added. "But how does she feel about him? She's so ... reserved ... so English."

"You are such a romantic.” Sachi groaned. "He's old enough to be her grandfather. What could she see in him besides, a ... a trophy of power and position?”

"Dumbledore seems like a nice man who is very much in love. I hope she doesn't hurt him."

The other woman snorted. "He has a woman less than half his age sharing his bed. He's getting as much out of their situation as she is. I would not pity either one of them."

BANG! Minerva marched out with head held high. Her steely regard silenced the two chatterboxes and fixed them in their place more effectively than any spell. Minerva slowly perused each woman, each in their turn head to toe. After her thorough review, she sailed past them but not without first commenting loudly, "I would say that I am not the one in need of pity or sympathy."

Minerva stopped just as she reached the exit and added. "I find that those who speak of sex and intimacy so openly, and in public, rarely enjoy enough of either in private."

With brisk steps, Minerva walked through the main lobby heading towards the gift shop. The women's comments had stung. Did people believe her to be shallow and ambitious, that she cared not at all for Albus? What kind of hold did they think she had over him? And what pray tell did the Prophet have to do with anything, save for those excerpts?

She looked through the stacks of newspapers until she found the Daily Prophet. There were issues one and two days out of date. She bought one of each. With the papers tucked under her elbow, she paid and slipped out to a secluded corner of the lobby. The excerpts were not difficult to find seeing as they were on the front page.

After a few minutes and reading all the excerpts, she wiped the tears from her eyes. With shaking hands she folded and smoothed the papers down. In her mind repeated his sweet declaration. _He loves me so much, so very much. The entire world knows it._ In her heart, she wondered about her own feelings.

_What am I going to do about this, about him, about us?_

* * *

Albus shook hands absently with a wizard from Bombay. Their panel discussion had been a great success. Afterwards both he and Minerva were mobbed, but he had always known where she was. A few minutes ago she had inexplicably disappeared. His eyes scanned the conference rooms for Minerva for the twentieth time in as many minutes. Where was she?

His eyes went through the crowds again. He could not prevent the smile that graced his face after he spotted her among the crowd. His smile grew wider as she walked towards him acknowledging well wishers along the way.

Upon reaching his side, she stood on tiptoe and whispered, "My love, you shouldn't look at me like that. People will talk."

"There is nothing else worth looking at more than you." Dumbledore swallowed. "You said my love? Do you mean it?"

Minerva's eyes sparkled. "When did I ever say anything I didn't mean?" She looked into his eyes and mouthed the words, "Yes, I love you."

Albus' ears filled with a roaring sound that drowned out all other sounds save for the pounding of his heart. Albus traced her jawline, eyes locked with hers. She LOVES me. She loves ME. He bent down and kissed her cheek. She hugged him back burying her face against his chest.

Around them, wizards and witches tried without success to not notice or stare at the naked display of intimacy between the two. Not that the two in the center of it all was even aware of the world outside of their own.

Minerva cupped his face in hers and said, "You told the world how you felt about me. Now it's my turn." There, in public view, she kissed him on the nose before gracing his lips with a kiss that left no confusion about her passion for him.

Albus slid a hand up her spine deliberately enjoying the journey until he was cradling her neck. He returned the kiss in full measure. Minerva, senses reeling, toes curling, slid her arms around his neck eagerly abetting his voluptuous exploration. Her grip tightened even as she molded herself to his body. Albus let loose the self-imposed restraints on his nerves and spirit. His courtship was now complete. With his every brush of warmth across her lips, he committed himself more and more, longer, deeper, forever.

It was Minerva who found the will to break their kiss. Her arms slid down to her sides. "I think we should save some for later."

Albus chuckled. "Just when I think I know you, you do something surprising."

"Hold that thought," Minerva crossed her arms and tapped one foot. She was not smiling. "We still have to discuss these excerpts of yours."

"Er, you found out,” Albus said sheepishly. "I can explain and I-"

"You can explain afterwards, Albus."

"After what?"

"Tonight, after you show me, to my full satisfaction, just how sorry you are for deceiving me," Minerva turned around. "Excuse me, Albus, I'm utterly parched. I need a drink."

Albus watched her retreating form. He schooled his heart to calmness while his mind turned over the various positions of apology he could employ later. _I am going to tell her everything and then make an apology she'll feel for days._

With that decision made, he went outside to get some needed air.


	8. Proof Absolute

The night was coolly invigorating inviting many couples and families to walk about. Minerva and Albus drifted down the sidewalk often times stopping to point out something interesting to the other. The conference would be ending tomorrow but tonight was theirs.

"Do you have any further surprises for me, my dear?" Albus teased. He held Minerva's hand fast in the crook of his arm. Ever since her uncharacteristic but not unwelcome display of affection, he had felt unbalanced. While she had refrained from further intimate displays, she had continued to make her feelings for him obvious - a whispered endearment, a squeeze of his hand, a loving look, a smile just for him. He had found himself anticipating anything she might do. _If this is what it feels to be coddled and valued, it will not be difficult to grow accustomed to it._

He stole yet another glance at her. She had changed her appearance after they left the conference. Dressed in a light dress draping to the knee with a warm shawl over her shoulders and her hair loosened, she was far from the persona of the stern Transfiguration teacher and deputy. She seemed more carefree as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"I daresay you are the master of surprises, Albus," Minerva replied. As they walked, Minerva found herself reveling in the new feelings of possessing and being possessed, of belonging. After she had kissed him, Albus had rarely wandered too far from her side. The rest of the day she had felt more than not his hand on the small of her back or resting lightly on her waist or shoulder, especially when she conversed with other men. _I could get used to this._ "Albus, why do we keep stopping? At this rate, it will be hours before we reach the hotel."

"I cannot seem to help myself from stopping and looking at you, my dear. For my generation, a flash of ankle was considered the height of flirtation," Albus explained. "I find your bared legs distracting and most inspiring."

Minerva laughed. Flirting with a man with wit, humor and daring, a man like Albus, was a delight. "Every woman has them. I am quite sure that women have used them to attract your attentions in the past. Do not bother denying it."

"That may well be, however, I feel the need to point out that yours are the only ones I am seriously considering."

Minerva sensed the sudden tension between them. "How ... how seriously?"

Albus paused their walk and turned to face her. He brought her hand to his lips and bestowed a kiss upon her skin. "Very seriously. For the first time in my life I am finding myself discontented with a casual relationship. But, know this, how things will go between us is entirely up to you. We have not discussed our-"

Minerva shushed him with two fingers laid across his lips. "Much as I seem to have been very forward today, that is a topic for which I would prefer some measure of privacy." She smiled. "I am eager to welcome you into my life, Albus, have no doubts on that, ever. Lifelong bachelor that you are are and set in your ways, are you prepared to take me into your life? Think about that please.“

Albus turned and they proceeded with their walk. There were no more stops, no more distractions. Their course was set.

* * *

An hour later, Albus Dumbledore was experiencing the worst case of nerves in his life. Room service had brought up their dinner. Minerva had arranged a lovely table by the terrace overlooking the harbor side. The twinkling lights from bobbing boats and buildings reflected on the water served as a romantic counterpoint to the candles on their own table. Minerva was breathtaking in a fitted dress that made him very much aware of his masculinity.

Everything was perfect. Everything that is but him. Overwhelmed with excitement and anticipation, he had dropped a goblet and even spilled their wine through the course of their meal.

"I have never seen you so clumsy, Albus, anything I can do for you?" Minerva sipped her wine. She looked at him innocently over the rim of her glass but her leg brushed with singular intent against his under the table. "Or on you?"

_Minerva McGonagall, femme fatale. No one will ever know how fortunate I am._ "I want this to be special ... for both of us."

"It will be. I know it will be."

Minerva nearly laughed at the rare frown that came upon his face. "What if we're not ... not compatible? Can you still ... Do you, er, that is, do we need contraception charms?"

Minerva did laugh then. She sat down on her nervous swain's lap. "We are extremely compatible outside of the bedroom that I can only believe that we will be nearly perfect for each other inside. If not, we do have each other to practice upon until we get it right." She kissed him deeply pouring all her reassurance and love into the kiss. She ended the kiss. "I will take care of contraception."

Albus squeezed her waist. "Promise me you will let me know what you like."

"I won't have to tell you. You'll know." She traced the length of his nose and down across his lips. "Give me ten minutes will you."

Albus followed her with his eyes as she disappeared into the bedroom. A knock at the door interrupted his silent prayer of thanks to all the deities of the world for all his blessings. He opened the door to the hotel manager.

"Professor Dumbledore, this package was just delivered to you.” The manager held out the heavy parcel.

Albus took the package and was surprised at its weight. "Rather fitting that it was done tonight."

“Is that what I think it is, sir?”

“It’s a first proof of my autobiography. I have to approve before printing,” said Albus.

“If you need another pair of eyes to proofread, I’m your man.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Albus. He closed the door.

Albus unwrapped the parcel and leafed through a few pages. He paid close attention to the dedication. He wanted it to be exactly right. It was.

He heard Minerva calling him from the bedroom. "Albus, I will catch a cold in here all by myself."

"On my way," Albus placed the book on the secretary desk in the sitting room. He took off his outer robe and draped it on the sofa. Humming softly, he closed the bedroom door behind him.

* * *

Albus watched her sleeping form one hand fingering her hair as if the very act would confirm that he had not dreamt the last few wonderful hours. Of two things he was most certain of. First, whatever the future had in store for them, fortune or ill, it did not matter. They would face anything together. Secondly, they were indeed utterly compatible in the bedroom. That had been proven most satisfactorily although he was quite open to more practice sessions.

As he lay on the cusp of sleep, his mind went to that which had started everything - his autobiography. There were a few minor corrections but on the whole he was very happy with it.

He would ask Minerva's advice on the remaining items. He wanted Minerva to shape the final book. After all, he reasoned, it was as much her story as it was his. With that thought, Albus pulled the covers over them and slept content with the world and the woman beside him.

* * *

Three months later, the autobiography of Albus Dumbledore was published to critical acclaim and commercial appeal. Everything about it was clear, simple and elegant exactly as Minerva had advised.

The cover was of sumptuous leather upon which the title was engraved "A Life Lived". The pictures were kept to a minimum - a Dumbledore family portrait, a photo with the Flamels, one of a group of intelligence agents from the Grindelwald years amongst them a startlingly young Minerva McGonagall and a still whole Alastor Moody, a photo of the assembled Wizengamot, a photo of past members of the Order of the Phoenix and a group photo of the Hogwarts staff. The dedication, too, was to the point.

Upon editing the proof, the significant woman in his life had objected to anything more wordy or flowery. Hundreds of rejected drafts fueled the fireplace in his study and delayed publication a week or two. In fact, Minerva had used every charm and feminine wile at her disposal to try to convince him to leave the dedication off entirely citing her acute embarrassment as her primary rationale. Though he did nothing to discourage her every attempt, in this instance, his mind and will was firm. So strong was his intent that he placed a contractual obligation upon the publisher to include the dedication unchanged in every printing thereafter no matter what his heirs, if he and Minerva were so blessed, could want to do.

And so it was that the autobiography had continually been revised, photos added or the cover design changed through many, many printings through the generations that followed. However, the dedication always remained thus:

_To Minerva, the only star in my horizon - brilliant, beautiful and beloved._

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you are. A bit of light romantic comedy to lift the mood or distract your mind from more pressing issues. I hope you enjoyed reading as I did writing it.


End file.
